


A Soft and Fragile Hope

by RegulusLupin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 00:02:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20684141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegulusLupin/pseuds/RegulusLupin
Summary: Set Post-POA, when Remus returns to his flat to find Sirius sulking in a tub of cold water and twelve years worth of filth. Is the man Remus loved lost or is he in there somewhere hiding.





	A Soft and Fragile Hope

Remus hesitated outside the door to his rooms. He sniffed and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't seen, he slid his wand from his robes and tapped it against the lock. He slipped inside, throwing up several locks, shields, and wards behind him.   
“Sirius?” he called softly, hazel gold eyes scanning the dark corners of his rooms. The only response was a faint slosh of water from the bathroom. “Sirius, you've got to get out of here, the Ministry-”  
The sight in his bathroom drew his breath up short. Sirius sat half submerged in the claw foot tub, his eyes gazing unfocused out the small window. His long dark hair hung around his shoulders, every rib showing through his gray skin, his thin knees drawn up, hunched over, his hands hidden in the murky water.  
Remus swallowed hard around the lump in his throat and left the room for a moment, snagging a small footstool and returning to place it next to the tub. Sirius’ gray eyes flicked towards him once and then away. Remus dipped his fingers in the water. It was icy cold and Remus felt goosebumps trickle along the backs of his arms. Wordlessly, he slid his wand from his pocket and tapped the side of the tub, watching as small puffs of steam began to rise from the water. He swished the wand, whisking away the twelve years worth of dirt from the water until it was crystal clear again. He could have scourgified Sirius clean too, but he tucked his wand away and reached for a clean washcloth. He dipped it into the water and wringed out the warm water over Sirius’ shoulder, wiping at the dirt still clinging to his skin.   
“Dumbledore?” Remus asked softly, wincing as he scrubbed Sirius’s back, the sharp ridge of his spine pressing into Remus' finger through the cloth.  
“He knows.” Sirius said, his voice gruff from lack of use.   
“Hmm.”   
The silence stretched between them as Remus cleaned Sirius head to toe. It felt good to touch him again, and so strange at the same time. Sparks lit under his fingertips whenever they brushed the pale flesh. Sirius stared straight ahead, hardly moving as Remus washed his back, his chest. He turned his face away when Remus reached into the tub and extracted one foot, and then the other, gently rubbing sweet smelling soap into the cracked and blistered skin. He laid the wash cloth aside and put his hand under Sirius’ chin, tipping his head back and using his wand to guide a steady stream of warm water over the long, dark hair. Sirius closed his eyes but his face looked pained. Remus worked a palm full of shampoo into Sirius’ hair, combing through tangles and snarls with his fingers. It took two washes to thoroughly clean the hair Sirius had once been so proud of.   
He hated this silence. This wasn't his Sirius. This was some twisted, ghost of the man Sirius had once been. He was small, and frail, and so bloody quiet. Remus felt a burst of anger, guilt, and shame. His face flushed red with it. Twelve fucking years. Twelve years he had let his soul mate, his brother, the love of his life rot in hell. He deserved every unhappiness, he deserved to suffer for what he had done-  
Sirius’ hand closed over Remus’, gripping the side of the tub until his knuckles were whiter than the web of scars covering them.   
“It's not your fault, Remus.”  
He was still in there, Remus smiled, despite himself. Sirius had always...He always knew exactly what Remus was feeling, what he was thinking. He sometimes knew what Remus felt before Remus knew himself. Sirius squeezed his hand gently, lacing his fingers in his.  
“I should have…” Remus heard the growl in his voice.   
“Exposed yourself to the Ministry?” Sirius asked, “Ended up in Azkaban yourself?”  
“Dumbledore, he-”  
“He had no idea that I am innocent.”   
“The hell he didn't.”  
“I'll give you that it wasn't the greatest timing for him to finally be wrong about something.” The phantom of a smile crossed Sirius’ face.  
Remus pressed his forehead down on top of Sirius’ hand. His skin was damp, but warm, and he smelled like a thousand lazy afternoons on the Hogwarts grounds, like the Gryffindor common room on snowy nights. He smelled like home. Remus had almost forgotten what home felt like.  
“He cast a patronus.” Sirius said.  
“I taught him.” Remus murmured. Sirius slipped his hand out from under Remus's head and ran his fingers through Remus's hair.  
“Did you see what form it took?”   
Remus turned his face towards Sirius, the corner of his mouth turned up. Sirius’s grey eyes sparkled with mischief and unshed tears.  
“A stag.” They said together, collapsing into a fit of exhausted giggles. Sirius leaned over and pressed his forehead against Remus's, tears rolling down his hollow cheeks.  
“Moony, I'm so sorry.” Sirius sniffed, his voice breaking. “I ruined everything…”  
Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius, not caring that his shirt got wet, not caring when Sirius flung himself into his embrace, sloshing water over the side of the tub and soaking Remus's trousers. Sirius sobbed into Remus's neck; Remus wrapped his fingers in that dark mane of hair, clinging to each other. Lips brushed damp skin, tears washed away years of self-hatred and pain.   
“It's alright, Sirius.” Remus said over and over again. “No more apologies.”  
Sirius was the first to pull back, letting Remus wipe the tears with his fingertips. Remus pushed a strand of hair back behind his ears, and stood, dripping water as he retrieved a fluffy towel. Sirius stood, and let Remus dry them both off. He was shaking, but it wasn't from cold, as Remus cast a blue flame into the fireplace, and ushered him onto a sofa and under a warm blanket. A cup of strong black tea appeared moments later, and Sirius felt more human than he had in a long time.  
Remus stood by the fire, a cup in his hand.   
“Where will you go?” he asked finally.  
“I don't know.” Sirius shrugged, staring down into his cup, watching the tea leaves swirl around. He had never been any good at divination. “Why don't you come with me?”  
“I...I can't do that.” Remus sighed. “Dumbledore.”  
“Ah.” Sirius nodded. “Another secret mission.”  
Remus nodded stiffly, clearly unhappy.   
“Someday…” Sirius said thoughtfully, “I'd very much like to not live my life at that man's beck and call.”  
Remus would have argued had it not been for the fond look in Sirius's eyes. They both owed their lives to Dumbledore. Sirius was reckless and impulsive, but his loyalties were true. How Remus could have ever doubted that…  
“You'll keep in touch?” Remus asked, his heart breaking. It was such a familiar feeling now, this painful ache.   
“As much as I am able.” Sirius nodded. “And with Harry too.”  
“He's spectacular, Sirius.” Remus’s eyes glittered with awe and pride. “I'm so glad that you got to…that you were able to meet him.”  
He paused, collecting himself as he crossed the room to sit next to his old love. Sirius leaned heavily on his shoulder. Remus set aside his cup and took Sirius’s hands in his.  
“After this war…” Remus murmured, pressing his lips against Sirius’s forehead.   
“Yes.” Sirius sighed. “Gods, Remus. Yes.”  
The question didn't matter. The war didn't matter. The twelve bloody years didn't matter. As they fell into each other's arms, all that mattered was that they were home. All that mattered was the familiar weight of each other, the touch of hands on thighs, and soft breaths, and whispered confessions, and the taste of bitter tea on their tongues. Gentle growls, and shuddering moans, and promises. They came together desperately, hungrily, sweetly. Tears were shed, and kissed away. Laughter echoed in rib cages and in the pits of their bellies. There was pain, but they had begun to heal, too. And when it was time to say goodbye, there was something there so foreign to them both, so fragile and so, so important. At long last, there was hope.


End file.
